


Even After

by Krisser__kris



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-30
Updated: 2002-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:05:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisser__kris/pseuds/Krisser__kris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thoughtless remark may cost Methos all he wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even After

** Even After **

**by Krisser**

 

“God, I needed a long, hard fuck. Thanks ever so much, Highlander.” 

Something flickered in Duncan’s eyes, disillusionment and pain, a soul deep pain. Then the Scot turned away, shielding all within. He headed to the bathroom without a word.

Already dressed, Methos left for the University.

\---------

When Methos entered Le Blues’ Bar later that evening, he was surprised not to feel MacLeod’s Presence within the club. He looked over at Joe as he reached the counter. The watcher remained quiet. “You heard from Mac?” Methos asked outright.

“You could say that,” Joe said hoarsely as he tossed a folded paper at him.

The note read: Good bye, Joe. Duncan MacLeod is over.

“That’s it?” Methos asked, forcing the fear that flooded his body away from his churning thoughts.

“Whatcha you do, Old Man?” Joe asked pointedly.

“Why me? What makes this my fault?” Methos asked, pushing the note aside.

“Because no one else could.” Joe’s words were said low and meaningful.

Startled, the ancient immortal turned his puzzled face to look directly at the watcher.

“Don’t you have anyone on him?” ignoring Joe’s comment for a moment longer.

Joe shook his head, “No, he was stationary. He always told me if he had plans.”

Methos let his thoughts whorl, then settle. “Okay, what did you mean, no one else could?”

Joe raised his brow, “No one has the power to hurt Mac like you can,” the watcher looked like he planned to say more, but he stopped short.

“What? What aren’t you saying?” An unnamed fear rose within the immortal.

“The damn Scot is in love with you.”

“No. How could I miss that? You’re wrong, Joe. Lust. He lusted after me.”

“Shit. You’re a prize.” Joe stood to leave.

“What in the hell is that for?”

Joe shook his head in disbelief, “How in the hell can you be clued into so much around you and miss something like that?”

“Just talented I guess.”

“Humph.”

“Not that I buy this, but what makes you say that?” The ancient’s heart beat faster, if he didn’t know better, he would think that he wanted to be convinced.

“His eyes were…hungry. They watched you. He was grumpy when you would vanish and he was relaxed when you were in town.” Joe looked at the immortal, “Mac had a way about him when he was in love. He’s been in overdrive the last month.”

“Even after..?”

“Yeah, even after.”

\---

**Two Weeks Later**

 

Joe looked at the hunched over man sitting at his counter, “Okay, Adam. You ready to tell me what you did?”

Brown eyes darted Joe’s way quickly and moved away equally as fast.

Sarcastic in tone, “Nothing like a one track mind.”

Joe sat across from the falsely reposed man. In a serious watcher voice he shared, “He’s contacted no one. Not a single member of his clan. He’s not been out to the island or Darius’s church, not even the highlands. So give, what happened?”

Methos closed his eyes and he leaned back, “It was after Keane. Amanda had left and I checked on the brooding Scot…” The immortal let his memories of that afternoon surface. . . . . . 

 

Methos walked up to the barge and found the touch of Presence within comforting. He recognized it as MacLeod’s without trouble and he knew he was alone.

“You really are unconcerned of Keane’s whereabouts?” the older immortal said by way of a greeting.

The Scot nodded, “Same as you should be.”

“I may know where he is, but I have no quarrel with him.” Methos stated as he headed to the kitchen for a beer.

MacLeod watched him move, “You challenged him, Methos,” was said in exasperation.

“Only because you weren’t acting like yourself.”

“You cannot fight my battles for me,” Duncan echoed some of the first words Methos had said to him.

A nod of the older immortal’s head acknowledged the remembrance. “I’ll do what I must to keep you alive. Even fight you.” Methos said with more honesty than he intended.

The honest answer caught the highlander by surprise, he had expected a biting response.

Duncan couldn’t help but wonder once again why having Methos close to him was more comforting than even Amanda. He shook his head and stood stretching before going to the fridge to get two more beers. He turned to ask the obvious question and caught a look of desire so intense on the older man’s face it hit him straight in the groin.

Beer forgotten as he felt his desire build, the strength of that desire for the man before him was surprising, but oddly enough, felt right. Duncan reached out and grasped Methos’ neck, pulling him close and covered his lips. 

There was no hesitation in those beneath his, they opened and welcomed him in.

The first time Duncan lifted his lips off the bewitching ones he had been lost in, he found both of them on the bed with both shirts gone. He smiled and dragged his tongue along Methos’ chin to the ears and explored each one. He nipped and bit his neck and shoulder, marking him, even if only temporarily.

The lithe body beneath his arched up against him and writhed without form in an effort to get closer. Duncan pressed his hand against the obvious bulge and Methos arched harder into the cupped fingers, conveying his need without words.

Pants and underwear removed, Duncan finished exploring Methos’ body with his tongue.

Sounds emanated from Methos but no words in any known language were discernable by the Highlander. It mattered not, the sounds of enjoyment drove the Scot on. The utter abandon in which Methos showed his pleasure was erotic in its own right. 

The Highlander worked the vibrating cock until the explosion of Methos’ climax filled his mouth and the hoarse scream of his name filled his ears.

Methos was forced out of his blissful, sated state by his voracious lover. He found his body being reexplored. The lips on his inner thighs had him spreading his legs open, encouraging more exploration. 

The Scot paused and connected his eyes with those of his lover’s, requesting permission.

The older immortal bucked his hips up and ground out, “Please.” He wanted this more than even the Highlander.

Mac prepared him with his fingers as his mouth brought him to another full erection. Methos got lost in the sensations. Control lost within the onrush of emotions, he abandoned himself to Duncan’s care.

The Scot touched every hot spot with his mouth, hit his prostate with every thrust and pushed Methos into a multiple orgasm.

MacLeod called out Methos’ name and captured his own name off his lover’s lips as he emptied himself within the ancient immortal.

Duncan pulled Methos close and cuddled him as he drifted into his best sleep in months.

Methos pressed close, as if trying to become one with Duncan. The Highlander’s name on his lips as he drifted to sleep.

\----

 

Methos looked at Joe as he remembered the fear that had consumed him upon waking. The complete loss of control, the abandonment of all he was, the total capitulation of self to another, an immortal at that. Something he had never done in five millennia.

He remembered, as he had looked down at the young immortal, that this one was the only one that had him breaking all the rules in just one night, just one time together.

He had bolted from the bed in fear.

Joe’s cough broke into his reverie, “I said something that hurt Mac.”

“You’re always saying stuff that hurts MacLeod, what was so different this time?”

“This time it was after sex,” the immortal shared boldly.

Joe’s eyes bugged, he had he missed that? 

“Our first time,” then a hoarse whisper, “Our only time.”

“Damn it, Methos, you can’t play with Mac that way, he takes his loves very seriously.” Joe slapped the bar top.

“Don’t I know it…”

“So…what…. you get him out of your system or something?”

“Hardly.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Joe changed tone as he saw the immortal’s dejected expression. “I was certain he loved you.”

“Oh and you couldn’t tell me?”

“Don’t go there. I wasn’t about to interfere. You had to have known…”

Methos laid his head down on the countertop, “Joe, I was so busy trying to talk myself out of caring for the bloody Scot, I missed all the signs.” He raised his said, “Okay? Satisfied?”

“No, but it’ll do.”

\-------

**Two Months Later**

 

Joe Dawson hadn’t seen Adam in weeks and hadn’t heard from him in days. He went in search of the old immortal.

He wasn’t at his place. He was on sabbatical from the university and they hadn’t seen him. The only other place was the barge. 

The watcher found the rover parked outside with dust on it. Inside he found Methos. He also found ten separate computer setups.

Joe sighed as he stepped inside. “Anything?” He asked and could tell that he had startled the immortal.

Methos didn’t turn around, “No.”

“You look like hell.”

“Great. Glad you think so. Have the watchers turned up anything?” Methos asked as he wheeled his chair to a different terminal.

“No. Nothing. I think he’s changed his name.” Joe admitted. “That’s what his note meant.”

“No, Mac said many times, he was Duncan MacLeod from the clan MacLeod. That’s who he was. He never apologized for that. He didn’t hide.”

“He’s always listened to you and Connor discuss the importance of being able to disappear. Maybe this time he applied what you said.”

Methos’ heart constricted tightly within his chest. “He can’t have.” Methos turned toward the watcher, “Then it’ll be just like I killed him. God, Joe, I’d die for him. I offered him my bloody head. Why didn’t he just take it?”

Joe stood next to the distraught immortal and rested his hand on his shoulder, offering what support he could.

\---

**Four Months Later**

 

Joe Dawson cussed at the phone and whoever was on the other end. “Dawson. This had better be good.”

“I found him. I found him, Joe. Call ya later.” 

Joe looked at the phone and all he heard was the dial tone. Well, hopefully Methos would bring the Highlander home. Or call if he needed help. Well, damn, he didn’t even say where he was.

\---

 

**Alice Springs, Australia**

 

The jeep turned into the school parking lot and pulled into its parking place. The teacher that exited it ran across the middle school campus and received many morning greetings. 

“Morning, Mr. Cloud.”

“Hi, Mr. Cloud,” and the like rang out as he hurried to his first class.

He stopped in the office to check his in-box for messages. 

The principal stepped out of his office, “Mack, we have a new teacher arriving this afternoon. Is this a day you coach?”

“No, Mick, I’ll be here to greet the new victim, oh, I mean new teacher.” The Scottish accent was a bit thicker to add menace as he stressed “victim”.

The office staff laughed as the principal waved him off. Mackenzie Cloud walked to his classroom.

His morning World History class was already filling the room. He started writing on the board, the way he stared each day.

He looked forward to his Art History class, this group was there voluntarily and he enjoyed the student questions. He also coached cricket twice a week and so his days were busy. It was just the nights that were difficult. He was lonely. He didn’t socialize with any of his coworkers and he didn’t get out to meet others.

Both Connor and Methos had stressed being different in your new role. He was. 

After his last class vacated the room he grabbed his gym bag and headed to the teacher’s lounge. He felt the Presence before he started up the stairs. He didn’t even unzip his bag where his katana rest. He recognized the signature. Methos. His heart raced, but he kept his sedate pace even as he made his way to the meeting.

The principal, Mick Castle was happy to introduce the new addition. He was long term literature sub, Adam Dawson.

He shook hands with all the staff including Mac’s. He stood near his Highlander, enjoying his scent after so long absent. He watched him and noted the personality differences. This man was quiet and reserved. His humor surfaced only once, but at least it was there.

One hour after the meeting started, it finished. The principal wanted his staff to go home. Mack nodded his goodbye and headed out to the parking lot.

Methos followed.

The Scot got into his jeep and drove away without a look back.

Methos followed. He had no choice. He had to talk to the Highlander and it was better to be away from the school when he did.

He already knew where Duncan lived. He parked in the street in front of the house. He knocked on the door.

The door opened in a matter of seconds. The Scot stood there, silent.

“Duncan MacLeod, of the clan MacLeod.” Methos stayed still, just outside the threshold as he said the name of the man he missed so very much.

“Not any more.” He held the door open and indicated that he come in.

“Then I have killed you.” Methos sagged, feeling defeated.

“You were Death once and now you’re not. But you struck me just as sure as you still were.”

Methos realized that he had inflicted more pain than he even dreamed. Squaring his shoulders, he would fight, but he battled his own fear for this fight would be the most important ever. One look at Duncan's face told him it wouldn't be easy. On as sigh, “Do we ever talk of it, MacLeod?”

“Talk of what, Methos? That in that moment I saw you fight Silas that my will to fight and live doubled?

That when I saw Silas standing over you, you, fallen at the bottom of the stairs, on your back that I wanted to die?

That I treasure the tiny bit of you that I carry inside? Is that what you wish to speak of?”

Methos, the oldest of known immortals, was frozen to the spot. Never did he dream this depth of caring within the Highlander. Never did he dream that any of it could be directed at him.

At this odd crossroads, Methos chose truth. “My darkest moment was when Kronos sent both Caspian and Silas.” His voice started out at barely a whisper, then changed to a shout, “I thought you were dead.” The older immortal dropped his head, his voice low, “I didn’t care anymore…”

Duncan turned away, feeling himself swayed by the pain-filled body language.

Allowing himself to be open and vulnerable, Methos spilled more, “But then Silas came back with Caspian’s sword….and you were still alive…” the voice altered slightly, rougher, “You said I go with the winner. You were always my winner, MacLeod.”

“What do we do now? Where can we go from here?” The Scot wasn’t quite willing to give up, the love fighting to get out. He just didn’t know if they could.

“We can start over. Build a relationship, I can give you my word that I won’t give up, won’t run away.” Methos knew he meant it and that scared him anew.

I…I don’t know…” unsure of the outcome now that Methos stood before him.

Methos moved so that he stood behind the Scot, he grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers, “You are the bravest man I have ever known. Even after all that, you believed……..Do you have any idea how frightening that was…………I…I pushed you away hard …. and yet, you expected me to come with you. I was stunned, but I couldn’t chance Kronos suspecting….

They had not believed that I had changed, but only 24 hours after I shatter all that I am in your eyes, you were still willing to believe that I had, gave me the benefit of the doubt, do you know the last time someone that knew me did that? Duncan you never cease to amaze me, so please, see if you can find it in you to trust me one more time.”

“So, belittling what we had, what we did, was your way of showing me that?” Duncan was trying to sort through the maze of information that was being shared, more than ever before in such a short time period.

By paying close attention to the body language the ancient immortal could tell that the Scot didn’t quite believe him, he’d have to convince him he wasn’t leaving, ever. Methos tightened his grasp on their intertwined fingers and rested his head against his Highlander’s back.

“No, it was my attempt to prove to myself that I could walk away. I was willing to fight Keane in your place. The lengths that I’d go to keep you alive startle even me. But, Duncan…It was …I woke up next to you and wanted to stay. Then I realized what that meant, I had given up all my control to you. I have never done that, ever. And in that first waking moment, I didn’t care and that scared me more than anything ever had. And I’ve been in some fucking scary situations.” Methos looked down at Duncan’s hand, brushed it with his free one. 

Duncan remembered how hard Methos had worked to convince him he was death. He had used words to drive him away. It had almost worked. It had failed only because the actions hadn't matched the words.

Words had always been Methos’ most effective weapon. Words to hurt… and with a burst of insight, Duncan realized that Methos loved him, and had for quite some time.

He stared at his future. Another chance, Duncan knew he was willing to give Methos another chance. What choice was there really? His heart had been lost for a long time, he’d only found it when he had found Methos.

He felt like a starving man with just the promise of a meal to sustain him, the Scot took a deep breath, about to speak his heart but Methos grew worried and impatient.

“Will you reduce me to begging?”

“NO. Never beg for love, you won't have to. Not ever again. The only begging I’ll ever want to hear will be you begging to come.”

Methos took his first pain free breath in a month and found himself folded within his Highlander’s embrace.

They stood there for a long while, content with holding and being held. Hearts finding solace and healing together.

\-------

Spooned together, Methos played with Duncan’s hair. He stared down at the sleeping man, so very grateful for the second chance to have his heart’s desire. After a night of slow, sensual love making, Methos knew it wasn’t just the raging passion that made him loose control, it was Duncan, himself.

That same knowledge of his total lose of control seized him as he woke. It was a glorious feeling, giving that much trust. After five thousand years, he could love someone completely and the only thing that could top that was knowing that he was loved in return.

\-------

**Six Months Later**

 

Methos sat on the top step and watched as Duncan entered the building.

Mack Cloud entered the principal’s office and laid the papers he carried in front of the man.

“Adam and I are together.” Duncan stated by way of explanation.

“Yes, I watched it happen. You seemed only half alive until Adam joined the staff.”

“You’re not…”

“You found love, I don’t begrudge that.” He looked at the duel resignations and sighed, “The school board would though and that is the only reason I’ll accept these.”

Duncan nodded with understanding, “Thanks, Mick.”

Mick Castle walked out his favorite teacher to where Adam was waiting for them. “Good luck to you both.”

“Thanks, Mick,” Methos said as they shook hands.

“Goodbye, Mick,” Duncan said as he hugged the principal.

They went down the stairs to Mac’s jeep and gave a final wave as they drove out of the school lot and headed to the airport.

“Joe going to pick us up?” Duncan double-checked.

“Oh, you bet. He’s a little miffed at the lack of information I’ve sent along.” Methos added.

“Well, he’ll love the student love letters you got.” Duncan teased.

“Oh, I think the video of the cricket coach in action will be better.” Methos topped his partner.

The Highlander grinned then passed the keys off to the attendant with a large tip to deliver the jeep to a struggling family from the school. “We should come back to this country.” They had not felt a single Presence the entire time.

Methos nodded in agreement, but amended, “After Joe retires.” Methos planned to lose their watchers after that.

That night in Paris, Joe appeased and the numerous computers explained, Duncan grabbed his loved one close. “I’m glad you found me.”

Methos looked into the warm eyes of his Highlander, “I’d never have stopped.” A promise laced with his possessiveness.

Desired flared and Duncan took his beloved to bed.

\--

Days found them teaching at the University, up front about their relationship and nights found them wrapped tightly together, neither one in control and neither one trying to be.

fini


End file.
